No Sin But Ignorance
by Sardonic Kender Smile
Summary: She promised to protect Pent with her bow, but Louise does not know how long she can keep her promise...now that she is pregnant. Her choice: reveal the truth and be forced to break her vow? Or keep secrets from a man who wants nothing more than to know?


For Myaru. Merry [belated] Christmas and Happy New Year!

Inspired by quotes from Moliere, picked as prompts (and…for some reason I connected them. Or tried to xD). A couple lines were taken from the PentxLouise A supports.

* * *

_"My heart is hardn'd, I cannot repent"_

Louise had thought herself alone.

She had walked a good length away from the camp, a precaution against accidentally hurting someone with her practicing—imagine little Nils or her own precious Erk walking into the line of fire! She kept to her regime as she always did…testing her bow, examining the fletching on each of her arrows to ensure that they'd fly straight, practicing nocking as quickly as she could, and then—finally—letting each one in her quiver fly, one after another, into a tree's trunk. Louise was not usually the most stoic of archers during her practices, prone to giggling if she managed to split a previously shot arrow with the force and accuracy of her next one, but on this day she was solemn and silent. Lord Pent was on her mind even more often than usual, as of late, in addition to a few other things that bought distraction and hampered her aim…such as her sudden urge for a raspberry pastry.

Good _heavens_, how she wanted one. It couldn't be strawberry, or apple, or even blackberry…it was raspberry that she longed for, that she had been longing for over the past three hours. Despite her knowledge that the army could not afford such a luxury, her craving did not diminish.

The sparse sounds around her did nothing to take her mind off the thought—simply the rhythmic snap of her bowstring, the far-off thud of the arrow sinking into the tree, the steadying breath she took before each shot, birdcalls and the rustling of leaves. All was peaceful, and quiet, and _if she couldn't get a raspberry pastry soon she didn't know what she'd do—_

Despite the silence of the day, her last thought had been so loud that the arrow she shot as she thought it missed the tree completely, whizzing off into the shrubbery. Louise sighed gently and glanced at her quiver to find that that had been her last arrow.

She knew that her work now was to retrieve her arrows—all of them, today, since her aim had been so poor that she had not split a single one. She was rather disappointed in herself, if she had to be honest. It was not only her pride but her _duty_ that required her to march over to her target-tree, wrench out her arrows, and continue practicing until she could not err. She was still in a war, she and Lord Pent, and she had promised to protect him…

_How much longer will I be able to?_

The thought was a chilly one, and stopped Louise in her tracks. She stood there in the grass for a moment, bow hanging loose in one hand, and was suddenly wrapped into a memory…walking with Pent in the woods one night a few weeks ago, far from where the army had set camp. She remembered him lacing his fingers through hers as they walked, remembered him stopping and growing gravely serious, remembered him worrying for her, wondering what tomorrow would bring, asking her if he'd told her that he loved her enough times. She couldn't remember whether she had kissed him first or if it had been the other way around, but the rest of that night had been a giddy blur of warmth, tender and ardent.

At the time, it had seemed beautiful and wonderful to Louise. She loved Pent with all her heart, and worried for him as well. It was good to be reassured that for all his concerns dealing with Lord Eliwood, Athos, and Nergal, he still thought of her, just as it was good for her to prove the same to him. But perhaps, she realized as she finally forced herself to walk toward her arrows, a hand pressed to her stomach, perhaps it had been foolish. They were man and wife, surely, but they were also in the middle of a dire war, and couldn't afford not to think of the consequences…

Louise then reached the tree, pulled out her arrows, and began searching for the one she had missed with, knowing she could not afford to leave a perfectly good arrow uncollected. She finally spotted it in a hollow beneath a large bush, and after several minutes of weighing the horrid, unladylike act of crawling on the ground against the horrid waste in leaving the arrow there, she decided to crawl. She was alone anyway, she reasoned, and no one would ever find out that she had done such a thing.

As she finally managed to wriggle under enough shrubbery to grasp the arrow, unable to giggle in her position but more than able to manage a smile, she realized that the area on the other side of the bush was a clearing…and that two voices, then faint, were steadily growing louder. Getting closer to her.

Louise clutched the arrow harder and bit her lip. She now wanted to get back onto her feet so that she didn't look so ridiculous, but she knew that if she stirred, the people approaching would be able to hear her. She would probably look even _more_ ridiculous if they caught her in the act of trying to disentangle branches from her braid—which was already quite mussed up from her arrow-searching. She decided to stay still and quiet, wait for the passerby to leave the clearing, and then extract herself with all the dignity and grace of the wife of Lord Pent, Mage General of Etruria.

"Lyn," a high, light voice ventured as two young women stepped into view, "You can't really be serious—"

"Of course I'm serious," retorted Lady Lyndis of Caelin to her friend, the purple-haired girl Louise had seen riding a pegasus. "A terrible wrong was done to me, and I must amend it correctly. My honour demands it." She smiled then, stopping for a moment to lean against a tree. "At least you're calling me Lyn again, though, Florina!"

The girl with the lavender hair blushed hard. "I-I mean L-Lady Lyndis! You must understand how dangerous this--"

"Florina, _stop_," the princess ordered, folding her arms. "We're friends, and I think we should speak to each other as friends, don't you? Enough of this 'lady' nonsense."

"F-Fine." Florina took a breath, a new determination in her voice. "As your _friend_, I don't think you should go after the Taliver."

Lyndis's face tightened. "Would you believe Kent and Sain told me the same thing? I thought that you, at least, could understand. You knew my father, you knew my tribe…can you say that the slaughter of all those people, of an entire _culture_, doesn't affect you?"

The lady of Caelin was leaning on the tree no longer, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Florina took a small step back. Louise merely felt her eyes widen—she had heard the reports that the infamous Taliver bandits had virtually wiped out the Lorca tribe in recent years, but she had not connected the Lorca to Lady Lyndis…had not realized that the strong young woman's past contained an element of horror, that she doubtlessly had friends and relatives who were taken from her.

"L-Lyn, I'm not saying that it wasn't a terrible thing!" Florina insisted.

"Because it was," finished Lyn, "and I must do something about it."

Florina's voice was but a whisper as she asked, "M-must you?"

Lyn looked incredulous. "Yes! I am the only one left who possibly could! I have to avenge my father and the rest of my tribe…my _family_, Florina. How could I possibly let the Taliver continue on their way, without any sort of retribution? They killed everyone they could—men, women, and children. Why should any of them go on living? Any single one? It isn't just!"

"Would you listen to yourself?" Florina pleaded, now incredulous in her own way. "Th-this doesn't sound like you at all! The Taliver children didn't do anything…shall your revenge include them, as well?"

"Why not?" Lyn challenged. "So that they can grow up to be just like their parents?"

"L-Lyn," Florina said, and though her mouth kept moving, like that of a gaping fish, no other words left it. Her large blue eyes filled with tears, which Louise could see even from her awkward position beneath the bush.

Lyndis turned away, her voice softening. "I'm sorry Florina…you shouldn't have to see me like this. I know that you do not agree, and I know that two wrongs do not make a right…but I cannot let the Lorca go unavenged. It would be like…forgetting them." Her voice softened to a whisper.

"N-no, Lyn, that's not—"

"There's no use trying to talk me out of it, Florina," Lyndis said, firmly but gently. "My mind is made up and my heart is set. I will do what I must do, and I will not be sorry for it."

Florina stood there, and shook, and blinked. Louise could only wonder.

"Come on," Lyn murmured, taking her friend by the elbow and gently steering her back into a walk. "Let's go back to camp. I bet Huey wants to go for a fly, right?"

"P-probably," Florina agreed with a weak smile, apparently saving her argument for another day, a better moment. The two disappeared from view. Louise remained frozen beneath the bush, her arrow still held tightly, deep in thought.

_Lyndis cannot forgive,_ she realized, and the thought was foreign to her. She tried to think back through her life, to remember any time she had held a grudge or could not forgive, but could alight on nothing. She tried probing her mind on a larger scope, thinking of things she had set her mind on doing—on principle—even though her heart had been unsure. Even then, almost nothing came to mind…nothing but the blaring signals her body was currently setting off like red flags. The strange cravings, the new moodiness, the lack of a cycle last month…it felt strange how such obvious signs could be so invisible to everyone but her, and stranger still that she had purposefully kept them invisible.

Louise was pregnant, and she had not told Pent. She was not _going_ to tell Pent—not until she had to, anyway.

She made the decision for Pent's sake. She knew that if he found out about the child inside of her, he would never allow her onto the battlefield…but Louise couldn't even count all the times that her husband's famous concentration would be absorbed upon one particular enemy, leaving her to worriedly guard his back. If she could not fight, Pent would be unprotected—and she had _vowed_ to protect him, on the day he chose her as his bride. That was her skill; her use in this world. She could not sit idly by, useless to him and everyone else, while nobody could even tell that she had a bulge beneath her shirt, yet. On top of that…she feared the emotional damage that could befall Pent, should the worst possible circumstances occur—circumstances that were hardly unlikely, during times such as these. Even requesting to stay back during battle was not a guarantee of safety…the army could be ambushed at any time, or attacked unawares in the night. If Louise became injured, there could be a miscarriage, which would be terrible enough. But if she were _killed_, which was also certainly a possibility, and had told Pent about the child in her womb…? He would be losing not one, but _two_ lives. How could she tell him, knowing the risks?

Still, her core writhed with nervousness, holding this vital secret and hiding it from her husband—the one who had the biggest right to know. She knew that it was not the right thing to do. Although the battlefield was not the time and the place to rejoice, Louise was secretly thrilled to be a mother, and secretly mourning the fact that Pent could not rightfully share in her joy. However, despite knowing that her decision not to tell him would be a breach of trust—in her eyes, at least, for she told him everything—her mind was made up. The feeling was tangled enough, Louise thought, and hers was without the elements of rage that Lyndis's had contained.

_How it must be, to feel such anger_, she marveled. _Such hatred_. She tried to put herself in Lyndis's place, to feel the loss of a home, a family, and a way of life…but no matter how hard she imagined, the feeling eluded her. The closest thing she could come to empathizing was imagining having Pent killed, torn from her side, and that thought alone was enough to soak her in loneliness, to sting her eyes with tears.

_I will not let that happen,_ she vowed, _no matter what condition I am in_.

Lyndis must have loved her family as much as Louise loved Pent. The blonde woman closed her eyes hard and wondered if she could possibly forgive any murderer of her husband. Would she feel the same fury, the same need for vengeance? Would she be able to hunt down his killer, to take his life….and would she truly feel sorry, for ending that life?

Louise did not know.

She _did_ know that she was still uncomfortably curled up beneath a shrubbery, and she still wanted a raspberry pastry like she had wanted nothing else in her life before. With a sigh, she gingerly extracted herself from the undergrowth, untangled the strands of hair that had gotten caught on the leaves above her, and returned her arrow to her quiver as she stood.

* * *

_"And hold there is no sin but ignorance"_

"Here you are, Canas," Pent said evenly, holding out a thick book bound in black leather. "It was absolutely fascinating; thank you for letting me borrow it."

"Oh, I'm so glad you enjoyed it!" the purple-haired druid replied enthusiastically, leaping up from his perch on a fallen tree to reclaim his book. "This is one of my newest favourites."

The two men stood at the edge of the forest framing the east side of their camp. Pent had borrowed the book from Canas last night in the same spot, following a discussion on elder magic, and had had a funny feeling that he would find Canas there again. Surely enough, the shaman had a sizeable circle of black, withered flowers around him, evidence of the newest spells he had been practicing.

Pent managed a small smile. "I see you no longer need this book to cast those particular spells."

Canas's smile was much wider than Pent's. "I just wanted to make sure that I didn't need to peek at the pages to remember—looks like I can do it! Did you try any of them?"

"No," Pent replied, resisting the urge to add _Good heavens_ before that. Elder magic was absolutely fascinating…and yet, although he had tried out some of the more elementary spells, a strange uneasiness deep inside him kept his studies in the field centred around the theory, not the practice.

The druid looked absolutely baffled. "What, you had all that knowledge right there and didn't even try it out? That seems unlike you, Lord Pent."

"I just wanted a bit of light reading," Pent explained, and when Canas glanced down with huge eyes at the practically indecipherable runes that his book was written in, he amended, "That is, something to…calm my mind. I find translating very relaxing."

"Oh, I completely understand," replied Canas with another big smile, but as Pent watch, the joy slowly slipped from his face. "Tomorrow will be a…very stressful day."

"To say the least," Pent sighed, and seated himself next to his friend. "Although, I must admit…after the time I have spent with Lord Athos, I am somewhat impatient to finally fight Nergal. He has been toying with us for a long time."

"It all comes down to tomorrow," Canas said nervously. "I feel as if I am a schoolboy again, about to take an exam…I know that I know all I can know, for now, if you know what I mean, yet I still feel that I am not ready."

"Exactly." Pent pinched the bridge of his nose and then let out a sharp, short exhalation in lieu of a laugh. "Goodness…exams…I still have nightmares about taking those. Picking up my quill to realize I had studied the wrong subject…"

"Really?" Canas asked, both amused and surprised. "But you're…the mage general of Etruria!"

Pent smiled. "Even mage generals of Etruria are allowed to worry."

The two men fell silent for a time, simply listening to the crickets beginning to wake in the late afternoon light, before Canas asked with an astuteness often hidden by his excitable demeanour, "…Is it Lady Louise?"

"Yes," Pent replied softly. "I worry very much for her. She has been acting a bit strangely, of late…I wonder if tomorrow has been weighing on her mind, as well."

"Oh, undoubtedly." Canas fingered his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps you should give her some space, tonight? Let her sort it all out?"

Pent bit the inside of his cheek at the advice. Perhaps it applied to Canas's life—considering the man's mother was a hermit, and that his main motive for marrying his wife had been to learn more about anima magic—but it did not apply to himself and Louise. He _loved_ her. What he needed to do was hold her in his arms as she slept and stay awake all night to savour the feeling, despite knowing how badly a sleepless night affects performance.

But tomorrow, of all days, would be the day he could not afford to take chances with said performance.

As Pent raked his fingers back through his hair, he glanced to Canas and found that the druid was once again practicing his magic. Canas flipped through the pages of his book for a moment, stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he reread a particular passage, snapped his fingers happily, closed the book, and extended his hand toward the nearest healthy flower, down by his feet. It was relatively tall for a wildflower, white and young and fresh, but as Pent watched and Canas concentrated, the white petals slowly blackened and curled in on themselves and the stem bent like an old man's back under a heavy load. Canas's cheeks flushed slightly as if he had run a short distance, full of life and vigour. Pent glanced down at the ebony cover of the book and the title artfully displayed in gold foil on the front—_Nosferatu._

"Oh, the flower!" said a woman's voice, and Pent quickly turned his head to see Louise emerging from the dusky forest, her hair dishevelled and her bow in hand. "Canas, did you…take its life? With your magic?"

"A neat trick, is it not, m'lady?" the druid chortled. "Well, I suppose something that requires that much studying to accomplish should be called more than a 'trick'…it takes a very firm frame of mind, to want to learn such a thing. To be able to steal the life of something—or someone!—else…not everyone would want that ability, I'm sure." His typical cheerful smile suddenly broke across his face as he added, "But it's all perfectly harmless in the right hands!"

Louise wasn't sure about that, but she bit her lip and said nothing as she seated herself next to Pent. Her husband pulled a thoughtful face.

"A pity that elder magic is so often seen as 'dark'," he mused, "but then, it is easy to fear what one does not understand."

"Power itself is not a bad thing to have or to want," Canas agreed. "The danger lies in becoming consumed." Despite his cheerfulness, the druid shivered, very slightly. Louise was concerned—it was like watching a child looking into a dark room, trying to convince himself that monsters did not exist and that he could enter without being grabbed by them. Her thoughts were interrupted as Canas continued, "It is the same with knowledge, I suppose. There is nothing wrong with learning, but knowledge can be easy to abuse. I hypothesize that some people shy away from scholasticism simply because it is easier not to know."

That struck a chord with Louise, and she hugged her arms around her middle.

_It's easier not to know._

"A human enough philosophy," said Pent thoughtfully, "But I've always disagreed, personally."

Louise blinked.

Pent continued, "My curiosity far outweighs the knowledge that simply not knowing would keep my life easy. I do not care for an easy life—I care for the knowledge. Otherwise…my desire to know makes me miserable. I feel as if I cannot live to the fullest, not being able to understand…it is like walking at night. I would miss seeing so much! And furthermore—Louise, are you cold?"

Pent had glanced her way and discovered that she'd had her arms around herself. Louise shook her head hurriedly. "No, my lord Pent."

"I know exactly what you mean, Lord Pent!" Canas exclaimed. "I know that curiosity has consequences…but I simply cannot help myself. I have to know—even if it proves my undoing." For a moment the haunted look from before touched his features, but as Louise watched, he snuffed out another flower and light returned to his large, purple eyes.

Pent nodded. "Peace of mind is desirable, yes…but I believe that some things are of greater worth. I understand you completely, Canas."

_Even if it proves my undoing._

Pent turned to Louise then, surprise in his grey eyes. "Louise, you're trembling. I thought you said you weren't cold?"

She could not bring herself to answer him. He put his hands on her arms to warm her and stood with her, looking down to Canas as he did so.

"I'm going to see if we can't get her something warm to drink," he explained, while Louise inwardly moaned for nothing more than a raspberry pastry. "Thank you again for lending me the book!"

"But of course, my lord," Canas replied, and Pent and Louise returned to camp, leaving him alone in his circle of flowers as the sun began to set.

* * *

_"Yet let me kiss my lord before I die"_

It was the unthinkable.

In the dark, vaulted cavern where they fought their final battle against Nergal, as Lords Eliwood and Athos rushed ahead of the fray to take the dastardly man head-on, a morph made in the image of a berserker went for Pent. The mage general was currently occupied fighting the eerie morph version of Marquess Laus. Louise could not warn him to turn around, for then the faux marquess would make an easy target of him…but she, standing at Pent's back, was too close to shoot the berserker!

She glanced at her bow as the berserker approached, having only a second to think. _I promised to protect him with this…_

Quickly, Louise moved her hand as if to reach for an arrow. The berserker, spotting this, glanced from Pent to Louise with a roar before running for her, instead. He raised his axe and chopped it down, but she ducked beneath his arm at the last moment, jumping onto his back and attempting to strangle him with her bow. The berserker flailed, screamed, and finally bucked, throwing Louise over his head and onto the hard stone floor. Her bow clattered away in another direction.

Despite the sharp aching that had now pervaded her body, Louise knew that she was still her foe's target. She curled into a ball involuntarily, suddenly unable to think of her own or even Pent's life.

_Our baby, our baby, you can't hurt our baby!_

"Louise!" she heard Pent cry as red flickered up behind her eyelids and sudden heat stung her face. That would have been Pent destroying Marquess Laus and turning to find her in trouble…

The berserker swung down at her again. Louise rolled out of the way, but the pain in her limbs from her landing on the floor made her less nimble than usual. Although the axe blade did not sever her in half, as her enemy no doubt intended to do, it cut through her side with a sickening _thuck_!. Louise was suddenly frightened—for a long moment, she felt no pain, and it was almost a relief when it suddenly flooded through her.

_I am still alive! But is the child?_

"Louise!" Pent cried again. She could hear footsteps, her husband running toward her. The berserker switched his focus to Pent, leaving Louise.

"No!" she tried to say, attempting to raise herself up, but her arms gave way and she collapsed with a wet sound. The air smelled like blood. She was powerless to watch as Pent fought the berserker, weaving away from his attacks and replying with fire, screaming for a cleric. Every so often he glanced to her, and she had never seen such a desperate look in his usually calm eyes.

She must have blacked out, at some point, for the next thing she knew, she felt her head being cradled in someone's lap. She had not heard Pent approach, or felt him lift her head, yet somehow…when she opened her eyes she saw his face, silhouetted with a strange, orange light that hadn't been there earlier. Louise felt her own face scrunch in confusion.

"L-Lord…Lord Pent…"

"Don't speak," he urged her. "So much has happened, Louise…you kept slipping away…"

Louise tried hard to remember. After watching Pent fight the berserker, there was a huge lapse in her memory…but the more she searched, the more snatches of sensation she found. A blinding flash of light, a monstrous, guttural roar, an intense heat followed by a freezing wind…

She was aware of a painful pressure over her wound—Pent's hand, pressed there in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Louise did not think that it was working. Even then, she felt blackness rushing in her ears, the threat of passing out again. What scared her the most was that she had no way of knowing if she could fight her way back into consciousness, if she went under.

A terrible realization struck Louise. She had always been ready and willing to sacrifice her life for Pent, but never understood the implications—having to enter death and Eternity _without_ him, leaving him alone. An unbreakable separation from him.

She wanted the words to tell him of the child in her womb, but they did not come to her. She felt blood bubbling up in her throat, making it far too hard to speak. When she tried, only her lips moved, causing Pent to lean down close to hear her…which gave Louise an idea.

When Pent was close enough, she mustered every ounce of her strength and lifted her head, pressing her lips against his.

_He has to know I love him. He has to know the baby loves him._

She was sure that she tasted like blood and dirt, and mentally apologized, but she supposed that Pent could also taste her desperation. She felt his elbow shift to hold her head up, since she no longer had the strength to do it alone, and he kissed her so hard that it hurt.

"Serra is coming, Louise," he gasped as he pulled away. "Please hold on—"

She was vaguely aware of sounds in the background—the crackle of flames, screaming. They drifted away like Pent's voice until Louise was only aware of his arm around her. Even that feeling began to dim, and she closed her eyes…only to open them once more, sensing a bright, piercing light from behind her lids.

The world was blue, and a girl was talking—"I have to do this fast; the lords will need me. Lord Hector's burns are terrible, but Priscilla is taking care of Lord Athos—"

Through the blue light, Louise was able to make out Serra kneeling by her side, staff in hand. As the staff glowed brighter and brighter, Louise felt its light pervading her very skin, numbing her with coolness.

"I can't even _believe_ that Bramimond showed up, let alone with Ninian—I mean, honestly! Ninian! How can she be alive? We all saw her die!"

Louise had been healed before, although not for anything as severe as her current wound. She knew that soon, the coolness in her body would trickle to her side, stopping the pain and closing the gash…and yet, although she waited, the relief did not come. Something else was wrong, she knew suddenly, something somewhere deep inside of her.

"And now there are _dragons_?! Really! This world hasn't seen a dragon in hundreds of years, and now that one finally arrives, we have to _fight_ it!"

The healing power of Serra's staff went there first, straight to Louise's core. She smiled as she felt it, and suddenly cared nothing for the pain of her wound. It wasn't nearly as important. Serra healed that next, regardless, and Louise was soon able to sit up, with Pent's assistance. Her side felt very stiff, but she was no longer bleeding, and she knew that if she waited a few moments she would be right as rain.

"Louise," Pent breathed, and hugged her tightly. When he let her go, she turned to thank Serra…only to find that the cleric was staring down in bewilderment at the staff she clutched hard in her hands—all rantings of dragons and Ninian forgotten.

"That was…so hard," the girl mumbled to herself. "It was like healing _two_ people, not one…."

Pent glanced sharply at Louise, but she was too busy taking in her surroundings. True to Serra's words, there was a _dragon_ in the chamber—a huge, reptilian monster that shot a spray of fire at Lord Eliwood as she watched. The young man managed to dodge just in time, but the flames caught the edge of his cape, licking upward. With a cry, he ripped it from himself and cast it to the floor before the fire could do any damage.

Serra whimpered. "Ooh, I have to get over there! This is no job for a lady of my stature!"

She had scurried away in an instant, leaving Louise alone with nothing but Pent and a clear view of the most frightening thing she had ever encountered. She may have been healed, but as she gazed at the glowing, orange eyes of the dragon, she realized that her encounter with death was far from over. The dragon was a very _vision_ of death—it spelled it out for all of them. It was clearly more powerful than Athos's magic, Hector's axe, or even Eliwood's sword. Although the best plan was to wear the beast down…if Serra and Priscilla missed a beat in their healing, the casualties would be immeasurable.

In a matter of seconds, Louise could be in the same position she was in but a moment before—torn from Pent's side, leaving him ignorant of the blessing inside her. He would never know he was a father, he would never know that their love had produced something that could move and breathe and learn and love. The thought was more magical than anything Louise had encountered through watching her husband study his spells.

"Stay close to me, Louise," he urged her. Although he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against his side, she saw that the action was an absentminded one—he was focusing hard on the dragon, thinking of the best way to take it down. "We mustn't get separated."

"Yes, Lord Pent," she whispered. The great truth of the Death rearing before her was suddenly too difficult to think about, so she forced it out of her head. She had one goal—to keep her family alive. Nothing else mattered.

The dragon could end all of that.

"It's been a thousand years," Pent mused, "But I think I understand why humans and dragons fought. Compared to humans, dragons are so incredibly powerful. Their mere existence must have seemed like a threat…too much of a threat for humans to bear."

_Too much of a threat._ Louise knew that she was trembling, but Pent remained stoic at her side.

"There is one certainty, Louise," he told her. "I will protect you."

She felt herself smile slightly—he had beaten her to the words. She had still been floundering with them, trying to grasp other, more powerful ones that also needed to be said…

"Lord Pent, I…I will protect you as well."

He was still studying the dragon, but turned to look at her when she gripped his shoulder and continued, "Along with the child inside me…_our_ child."

Pent's eyes flared open in shock. "Louise, that's…"

Louise suddenly felt bad about her confession. A battle with a near-legendary beast was probably the _worst_ possible time and place to tell someone such news. But Pent was not like other men…Pent wanted to know. Pent was _more_ comfortable knowing. But still, what if he only knew for the next few moments before all he knew was oblivion and—

Her thinking was suddenly cut off as he swept her into a tight hug.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he whispered.

"I didn't want to worry you," she whispered back. "You would've made me stay back at camp…and then I couldn't protect you like I swore I would…"

He held her at arm's length then by grasping her shoulders, staring at her midsection incredulously. "But you _did_ protect me, just now, and it almost got you _killed_…Louise." He suddenly looked quite distraught. "I put you through a lot of trouble, don't I?"

"Not at all, Lord Pent," she insisted. "I just…I worry…and…"

"I shall change my ways when we get back home," he murmured, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I promise. I shall eat when you want me to and sleep when you tell me to so that you can stop worrying. And I shall take care of you and the child."

"And we shall have peace?" she asked him.

"Of course." He kissed her brow. "We shall survive this battle, and then we shall have peace."

Pent took her hand, and Louise rushed with him to aid those battling the foe.

xXx

Peace Pent had promised her, and peace had come.

Louise sat in the cushioned window seat, embroidering in the sunlight. By her feet sat a pile of reports from other cantons, which she had earlier skimmed, but she was too round with her coming baby to be able to lean forward and pick them up again. Instead she continued embroidering, thinking about the snatches of news that she _had_ seen.

_Lady Ninian has given birth to a son…Lady Lyndis is to be wed to her knight…_

She paused and smiled at the thought of Lyndis. It was hard to forget the hatred that had been in the young woman's eyes that day Louise hid in the clearing. Louise had often wondered what path Lyndis had chosen…if her lust for revenge would drive her to leave Caelin, risk her neck, and slaughter an entire tribe, infamous bandits though they may have been. Yet it seemed that Lyndis had been able to forgive—or at least forget—after all. Her heart had softened. She had stayed in Caelin this long, and although there were rumours that she wanted to return to Sacae to live, Louise was sure that it would be to start a family, not to seek revenge on anybody.

_Family._

She smiled as she thought the word, placing a hand over her belly. As if summoned by her thoughts, a tiny blonde boy came toddling into the room, heading right to her and taking her hand. A nurse came in soon after, hastily apologizing.

"Oh, my lady, I'm so sorry, he just scurried away from me! I'll just take him out, now, so that he doesn't disturb you—"

"It's perfectly all right," Louise interrupted softly. "Just because I am not supposed to be moving much does not mean that I do not wish to see my son." She beamed down at the little boy, who lifted his arms in a wordless plea to sit in her lap. "No, Klein, you won't fit there right now…it's your little brother or sister's turn, right now."

Klein pouted for just a moment, but was soon turning away to look at his parents' chamber with happier thoughts on his mind. "They'll come soon? My brudder come soon?"

"Or sister."

"Or sisser?"

Louise smiled. "Yes, they'll come very soon."

Klein's attention had already shifted, as he spotted his mother's bow mounted upon the wall. "I touch the bow?"

"I suppose so. You'd love to learn how to shoot it one day, wouldn't you?"

"Yes yes yes!"

With some effort, Louise hefted herself out of the window seat. The nurse gave a start, insisting that she could get the bow for the boy, but Louise gently waved her away and went to retrieve it herself. She held it in her hands for a moment before extending it to her son, allowing him to run his fingers over the glossy curves and twang the string once or twice before she mounted it again.

"I like the bow," said Klein.

"Your father will probably want you to study some magic," Louise told him, but he stubbornly repeated,

"I like the bow!"

"The apple doesn't fall very far, it would seem," a new voice sounded, and Louise turned to find her husband standing in the doorway. "Louise, I must get back to my studies, but first I wanted to see if you needed anything."

_The apple doesn't fall very far…_ Louise licked her lips. "An apple? I'd really like an apple, my Lord Pent…if it isn't too much trouble."

_Please please_ please _don't let it be too much trouble!_

"Not at all," said Pent, "I shall find one for you at once."

But he did not leave at once. He leaned on his arm against the doorway for a moment, simply watching her and smiling. Louise knew that he had been getting a great deal of enjoyment out of studying her currant pregnancy, just as he had enjoyed watching her grow with Klein. He had monitored her eating habits, documented her sleep, and grinned like a child whenever he placed a hand on her stomach to feel the baby kick. The nurse, sensing the way his eyes suddenly locked on Louise's own, discreetly left the room. As Klein continued gawking at the bow on the wall, Louise made her way to her husband.

"I'm glad you told me about _this_ one right away," he teased her, reaching out for her stomach again.

"I am glad that you're glad, my lord."

She thought back to the war for a fleeting second, remembering her heart's firm resolve to keep Klein a secret from Pent, remembering how distant from her husband she had felt, remembering how she had almost lost him…but love softened her heart and life moved on, into a time of peace and safety. The memories melted away as Pent's lips met hers.


End file.
